Mwyr - Chapter Sixteen

[lady_mab]

 

The banners started to appear on the buildings as the day wore on. Dark blue fields with the golden eye of the Goddess embroidered onto them. 

Mina felt as if she was being watched from every corner. 

Her brother must have felt it too because he kept looking over his shoulder every few minutes. “This is how father describes the eye of the predator. Unseen but always watching.” 

She hugged her arms across her chest, not too sure how to respond. 

Pennants and flowers were strung up as they wandered through Hullenscir. Mica followed half a step behind, as if she knew where she was going. She didn’t, but she didn’t tell him that. The pull in her chest lead nowhere in particular, and so they wandered. 

“Why now?” Mica asked as they paused for a three-person crew to carry poles across the paved avenue. “They’ve known for how long that she has been on Mwyr, so why now?” 

“She’s on her way here. I can feel her getting closer.” Mina pressed one hand to her chest. The steady beat of her heart was not enough to cover the stirring of strings that connected the Goddess to this place -- to them. The pull grew stronger by the day, until it was almost a physical compulsion. Walk this way, then this way, and then you will find her, it seemed to say. 

But why they needed to be guided to the Goddess was a question she didn’t have an answer for. 

The Benghri did not reappear after their one and only visit in Hullenscir. The person who may or may not be one of the three moons did not appear. Mina couldn’t feel anyone in the city -- not over the pull of the Goddess. 

Nothing could outshine the sun. 

It was late afternoon by the time the city was completely covered in flowers and banners. The citizens lined the streets, and a gentle hum of anticipation gave Hullenscir a heartbeat of its own. Mina had given up on trying to find a way through the crowds by that point. She and Mica found an area not completely swamped with people to wait out the procession. 

A rider rounded the corner of the street, the roar of cheers chasing after her horse’s thundering hooves. The young woman stood up in her stirrups, waving a blue and gold pennant as she shouted. “Your Goddess walks among you! She has returned to her faithful, and she has returned to us here in Hullenscir!” 

The atmosphere broke, and a summer storm of voices rose to drown out the rest of her words. The crowd surged at the edges of the street, and Mina found herself buffeted by the tide of bodies. She lost sight of Mica for a moment, but then his hand grasped her shoulder and pulled her back to his side. 

“Here.” He helped her onto a low stone wall before a shop and clambered up beside her. 

The rider rode in several tight circles, waving the banner and shouting in time with the crowds. With a triumphant smile, she dropped back into the saddle and nudged her horse in the sides. 

The beast shot off, hooves providing a drumbeat beneath the cheers. 

Mina watched the rider disappear down a slight hill. In the distance, the Church loomed tall and mighty over the city and its people. The stone authority waiting for the Goddess. 

A hand tugged at her sleeve, but she didn’t pay attention to it. She couldn’t stop staring at the building. The Deacon would be standing at the top of the stairs, with the members of the house of worship framing him. The rider would be on her way there to make the formal announcement. 

The hand switched from tugging to a swat, and Mina turned to frown at her brother. “Stop that.” 

Mica wasn’t even looking at her. He only pointed, jaw slack and eyes wide. 

She followed his finger, and her breath nearly stopped. 

She had expected a gilded palanquin, something covered in expensive silks and jewels befitting the Goddess. A collection of litter bearers, backs bent and heads lowered -- in reverence of their burden, or out of the weight they carried. Mina hadn’t quite figured that part out in her mental scenario, but it had come with the resolve that she was not going to like the Goddess. 

Instead, a young woman with a solemn expression rode at the front of a small procession. She recognized the armor of the guards, though a dark-skinned man in plain clothes rode close to the front of the line. The servants trailed in the back, looking slightly confused. 

Mina gripped her brother’s shoulder and leaned out over the heads of the watching crowd. The strings in her chest pulled, but she knew better than to listen to them at that moment. 

The Goddess wore simple riding pants and a dark blue sweater. Her dark hair, unadorned and far shorter than fashionable, hung to just past her shoulders. And even though her face masked it well, Mina could feel the fear that radiated from her. It shivered down the strings that connected them and infected her own heart. 

This was nothing like she expected. 

These people were here for her, and she didn’t think that she could appease them. She didn’t think that she was what they wanted, afraid that she would only disappoint them, afraid that she wouldn’t accomplish anything. 

She was alone and trying to put on a brave face. 

The Goddess reached where they stood, and for a moment, the dark blue eyes met with Mina’s. Her breath caught in her throat. The sounds of the crowd vanished completely from her ears. A flicker of uncertainty ticked in her chest. 

Mina and the Goddess moved at the same time, lifting a hand to cover their heart. 

The plain clothed rider approached her, and broke the eye contact. He leaned over, whispered into her ear, and the Goddess shook her head. A wavering smile took over her face, and she rode on. 

It took several seconds before Mina realized that Mica started to shake her shoulder. “Mina.” He shook her a bit harder and she turned to stare at him. “Phrei, can you hear me?” 

She wavered where she stood, and his arm shot out to catch her before she could topple forward. Her hands clutched at his shirt, digging into the soft, worn fabric that reminded her so much of home. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder, closing her eyes as the metal bear charm kissed her skin. 

“Blessed Churmani, give me strength,” she murmured and Mica’s arms folded around her to hold her steady. “I need air.” 

Mica hopped off the wall and carefully helped her down. The crowds surged to follow the Goddess, closing in behind the last of the servants as they trundled down the hill. 

They would follow her through the main avenue, up to the stairs of the Church. They would watch as the Deacon welcomed her with open arms. 

Mina could still taste the confusion on her tongue. Even now, her body wanted to trail after the Goddess. She had no idea what she would do once they stood face to face, but the pull was strong enough to make her feet want to move. 

Only her brother’s grip on her arms kept her rooted to the spot. 

“Let’s leave the city for awhile,” he said, leaning in close to be heard over the roar of the crowd. 

The entire city seemed to converge at the spot where they stood, but Mina knew that they would be moving on. They would follow the Goddess, through the city, through their lives. 

Mica tugged on her hand, but her feet wouldn’t move. She glanced up at him, more exhausted than she knew how to explain. He understood her anyway. 

He turned and looped her arms around his neck. “Hup!” he chimed, the way he would do when they were still young and he could get away with this sort of behavior. Before she had to stay inside with their grandmother and practice seeing things that weren’t there and try to figure out which possibilities were more likely. 

With a strong tug, he hoisted her up onto his back and slung his arms behind her knees to keep her from slipping. He dove into the crowds that pushed in the opposite direction, weaving between the bodies with a skill born from a lifetime of hunting. There were no forests in the south of Raeq, or what remained of the kingdom. 

Her brain was lost in a haze of fog, and she had no idea how much time passed before her feet once again hit the ground. It took one breath, then two, before the cloud was gone and her senses flooded with dirt and grass and livestock. Smells of home. 

The wind came from the west, and if she closed her eyes, she could imagine that she could taste the salt of the ocean. 

Mica stood silent behind her as she wandered out a few paces. She longed for the fields of grass that would reach to her waist and beyond. The comforts of home, hidden behind stalks so tall that she could lose sight of herself, her path, even the sky if she strayed too far. 

Hullenscir’s lands were cropped, organized into a branching network of roads and animal trails. Livestock wandered with dogs at their heels and their keeper’s whistle in their ears. Everything was so organized and permanent. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Her twin’s voice broke through the background noise and dragged her back to the present. “You had me worried there for a moment.” 

She knew better than to laugh it off. He didn’t mean for a moment. She knew his worry made the string connecting them waver and twist into confused coils. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I expected, being that close to her.” 

“So you saw something?” 

Mina turned to face him, and his soft brown eyes were alight with curiosity. He couldn’t feel the strings like she could. It was a skill passed down through the women of her family. But he must have felt something -- they were connected in their own way, after all. “All the possible futures surrounding her were a jumbled mess. Like Auntie’s yarn when she is trying to knit.” She cupped her hands, fingers crooked and askew as she pretended to fit them together. “There were a few, that went from us to her, then right back out again. There are people far away that could be connected to us. Some strings were slack, because they are close. Others were taut, because in those futures, they do not follow her.”

Mica had long since given up trying to understand her way of describing things, so she tried her best to have it make sense. “Then… all of ours converge here? With her?” 

The best she could do at the moment was shrug. “I do not know. If we can reach her, then yes. That will solidify the lines between us. There is a chance that we cannot, though.” She ran the tip of her fingers over the strips of fabric woven through her braid. 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, and his own hand lifted to the bear pendant on his breast. “She would deny us because we are Rotia?” 

“Not her, I think. But those who keep her. The Deacon, primarily. We are not of that religion, so what reason would we have to see their Goddess?” Mina whirled about in her spot and kicked at a strone. “It is stupid.” 

His silence meant that she wouldn’t like his next suggestion. She could already sense the cringe along her shoulder blades as he took a breath. “What if we sneak in? Dress in the clothes of the servants and--” 

“Absolutely not. Bambvari phral. Why would you even suggest that?” 

It was Mica’s turn to shrug, and he frowned at her quick dismissal of his idea. “We have to get into the Church, don’t we? Isn’t that why we are here?” 

She continued to twirl the chestnut braid between her fingers. “There is no way we would fit in. They do not hire Rotia servants. We would stand out.” 

“Then why are we here, phrei?” 

Guilt pooled in the pit of her stomach. He wanted to go home as much as she did, if not more. They were both young, and he still had to prove himself as a hunter before being seen as a man and not a child. He had a concrete goal back with the tribe and she had a life set out for her in the shadows of the future. 

In Hullenscir, they had nothing. 

She closed her eyes and imagined for a moment that the breeze rustled the grass instead of the pennants that decorated the stone walls for the Goddess’ arrival. “The Benghri said that there is one of our faith here. We must find this... “ Her hands waved about in front of her, unable to find the word that she wanted. “Onori.” 

“The Tiria Onori,” he said. She didn’t know if it was to correct her from the vague idea that it might be a general spirit, or one of the sacred three. His eyes lifted to the sky, and he shoved a huff of air from his lungs. 

“Perhaps.” There were several ghostly strings that emanated from the Goddess. Two tied to Mica and herself, but this was because they had not yet crossed her path. Others could belong to spirits. It was hard to tell with so much commotion clouding her vision. 

So many other possible futures, and such a strong tether to the past. 

“I am worried, Mica.” She lifted a hand to her chest, reassured by the steady rhythm beneath her palm. “I didn’t think our connection to her would be so strong. Even now, I feel the tug that tells me to follow after her.” 

He moved closer, and his hand landed heavy and reassuring on her shoulder. It strengthened the tie between them. It helped her differentiate between the pull of the Goddess and the desire to take things at her own pace. 

They would need to find out who the one belonging to their faith was, and how they connected to the Benghri. It would bring them one step closer to the Goddess. 

#

The end of his assignment came when a shocked Deacon Paol shook hands with the Goddess. 

Cairo passed his horse over to the stable hands and trudged up the stone steps to the main Church. All he wanted at the moment was a bath and a long nap. Maybe a drink somewhere in between. 

But one of the Church attendants held out a hand to stop him before he could move off to the barracks. “The Deacon requests your presence, sir.” 

He wanted to tell the attendant to take the ‘sir’ and shove it up the ass of someone who might have cared for the title. It took colossal effort to bite back the words. He was a holy guard once again. It had been two long years, but he had finally returned to Hullenscir and would need to remember the routines that went along with it. 

Cairo stuck a frown onto his lips and moved to follow after the retreating forms congregation. The servants scattered the moment they entered the stone monstrosity. Off to return to their duties now that they were no longer a part of the envoy. 

The Deacon and priests would finish welcoming the Goddess, send her off with an armed guard, and then discuss what to do with her. 

One conversation with the young woman and they would likely be at a loss for how to deal with what needed fixing. 

Smirking despite himself, Cairo jogged to catch up with the remaining envoy guards. They likely hoped to be a part of her personal guard. Several were seasoned, borderline knights if Hullenscir only cared for such titles. But a small handful were new recruits, kids from the ruined farms of Raeq. Their freckled faces and light accents were embarrassingly innocent. 

At the head of the crowd, Deacon Paol ushered the Goddess on with a hand hovering over her shoulders. He didn’t dream of touching her without the proper rituals. (Cairo made a mental note to go apologize to the Lady later. He had been too casual around her. Two years outside of wrote behavior seemed impossible to break, but he had never been that good at following the rules.) 

The Goddess was urged into a private meeting room. The Deacon turned to scan the cluster as his ranked representatives filed in behind her. The old man’s eyes landed on him, and he beckoned. “You. You were the one stationed in Wellfox, weren’t you?” 

At first, Cairo thought he might have been talking to someone else. That someone standing at his side might have also been left behind in the tiny mountain village. 

The tide of people turned to face him, and slowly parted to make a path. 

Feet heavy with something akin to dread, he made his way through the narrow corridor of bodies. The door swung shut behind him, and the natural light from the halls’ high windows became nothing more than a nebula around the wood. 

The Lady already sat at the head of the table, posture rigid and hands on the table. If Cairo looked hard enough, he could see her fingers picking at the loose splinters in tiny, barely discernible strokes. 

Of course she was nervous. Here she was, unfamiliar with the way things were supposed to work, and thrown right into the middle of it. 

Cairo tugged out a chair and dropped down into it with a heavy sigh. It earned him a reproachful glare from Paol, but the Lady’s fingers stopped tapping at the wood. Despite his unwillingness to see her as anything other than a copy, she still welcomed his presence. It was familiar.

The Deacon sat at her right hand. “You were the one stationed in Wellfox during the interim after Tallah’s death, were you not? What is your name?” 

He resisted the urge to prop his legs up on the table. He did not want the attention from the Deacon or the other priests. He didn’t even want the Goddess’ attention. “I was asked to remain in Wellfox, yes. My name is Cairo, sir.” 

“From Banot, I take it?” Paol leaned forward, long, pale fingers criss-crossed on the table before him. “I understand your people have a different take on the legends that Mwyr tells of her Mother. I am glad that this did not taint your interactions with her as you delivered her to Hullenscir.” 

Cairo muttered, “Not a problem,” and ducked his head to avoid meeting her gaze. He could feel her eyes upon him. It gave him the uncomfortable sensation that she was waiting for him to slip. 

One of the priests spoke up next. “How did you learn of the Goddess’ presence here on Mwyr? Our letter would not have reached you fast by the time you left.” 

Ah, and there it was. The point where he would have no choice but to tell the truth (I met a strange winged monster that reeked of ancient blood and spoke in riddles), or have any lie called out by the Goddess. 

It was the Lady herself, however, that answered. “I approached him first.” Several pairs of eyes shifted in her direction, but she only returned Cairo’s. “I could feel a pull to him a few days after I woke up. I made myself known to him, and asked him to escort me to the Church.” 

While this was true in so many words, he found it odd that she would decide to say such a thing. It gave her more abilities than she had -- at least, according to the past avatars. Nothing stood out about him, not that would make the Goddess take notice. 

But he lowered his gaze as the priests’ attention swiveled in his direction. 

Paol made a small noise in thought. “In light of this, then, I think it best that you continue to watch over her during the course of her stay.” 

Again, Cairo glanced around to see who else he might have spoken to. Once realizing he was the only possible candidate, a sputtered sound exploded from him. “E-excuse me?” 

“At this time, it is best to minimize her contact with those around the Church.” The Deacon spoke as if she wasn’t even sitting right next to him with a strained non-expression in place. 

Cairo had no choice but to obey. He didn’t have any other orders, and none came higher than the Deacon’s. Not even the Goddess would have been able to disagree, if she knew what to say. 

He jerked to his feet and offered a stiff bow. “Of course, sir. I would be honored.” The words burned on his tongue, and for the first time in a long time, he wanted to go home to Banot. 

“Please escort the Lady to her quarters. Cleansing and training will commence tomorrow morning.” Paol waved a hand. 

Cairo knew a dismissal when he saw one, as did the Goddess. She rose to her feet, far slower than him but with the same amount of awkwardness to the limbs. 

As she passed him to the door, the Lady paused and smiled back at the room of priests. “I am glad to finally be here.” Her bow was far more polite. It didn’t hide the tension from her shoulders, though. 

Back in the hall, the waiting crowd stared in awe as she stepped among them. A silent bubble parted to make way, closing in behind Cairo as he followed in her shadow. The glares from the other soldiers made the back of his neck prickle. The Deacon might still pick among them to be her guard, but he alone was to serve her personally. 

What did he do to deserve this?

“Cleansing, huh?” The Lady finally broke the silence once they moved far enough away. Despite the fact that he should be in the lead, she walked with far more determination than he would have in her position. “Minimize my contact. It sounds like I’m carrying a contagious disease.” 

He didn’t have the words to reply. Not when her half-lie rested in the front of his thoughts. “Thank you for covering for me. I didn’t know how to explain what had happened.” But as he said that, he realized he had never actually told her the truth either. Would she believe him? 

She had a hard enough time believing herself. Why would a large lizard humanoid be any easier to comprehend? 

“I didn’t realize it then, but there had been a tug,” she admitted, arms locked behind her back and eyes straight ahead. “It wasn’t until we were riding here, through the city, that I recognized it for what it was. I don’t think I would have had the confidence to ask you to take me otherwise.” 

Cairo studied the back of her head, her hair worn down and unadorned. Several of the ladies in waiting on the envoy had tried to fix it, but she refused them each time. Even her stubbornness wouldn’t last long under the Church’s thumb, he knew. Soon she would be dressing the part. 

“Will you tell me?” The Goddess kept talking to fill the silence that he left between them. 

“My Lady?” 

“What actually happened in Wellfox. Why you came to find me at Chan’s farm.” She glanced back at him this time, and he saw the spark of something old behind her gaze. 

It was the same look she wore when he woke her up from her dreams, as thunder rumbled in the distance or tears rolled down her cheeks. 

It only made the inevitable truth of her time on Mwyr more painful. 

Cairo realized with a start that they stood in front of large wooden doors decorated with her symbol. The rooms set aside for the Goddess whenever she did visit, unchanged between the ages. She found them all on her own. 

One of her brows quirked at his continued lack of response, and he hurried to duck in a bow. “I will, my Lady. One day.” 

Her face broke into a brilliant smile. “That’s all I ask.” 

She slipped into the room and seconds passed before his brain caught up with the moment. He regained his ability to breathe, but one thought flooded his mind. 

For one brief moment, he thought he stood in the presence of the original Goddess.